Christmas Mischief
by LittleTantrum
Summary: Sarah and Cora are students at Cambridge in the 1920s. Sarah is ready to study Keats tonight but Cora has other plans.


_A/N: This was written for the Corah Christmas Exchange 2014. The Prompt: A college au set in England or America (or both!), 1900-1960?, themes of class disparity, women's education, and sexuality, would be acknowledged ideally._

Smoke lingered and caressed her face as Sarah took another drag from her cigarette. She was reasonably sure that, even if she weren't smoking, her breath would be visible in this cold. But she wasn't allowed to smoke in Cora's room. She looked up at the amber light emanating from the third window on the left of the ladies' dormitory. Honestly, she didn't mind the cold all that much, her insides were still warm from the two gin fizzes Cora insisted she drink. The cocktails were smuggled from a surreptitious Christmas party down the hall and Cora said all the sneaking made her feel like she was back in America again. Sarah didn't know why it would since Cora started at Cambridge a year before Prohibition was enacted, but she kept the observation to herself and drank down two very strong glasses.

A few trimesters ago, she would have been irritated by such frivolous interruptions to their study sessions. Cora had a habit of sailing off on distracted tangents about what dress she ought to wear for a party or how she might like to style her hair for class or which student she heard was caught with a man in her room. Of course, Sarah never minded the bits of gossip, but she would think to herself, "I'm paid to tutor you in English Lit, I'm not paid to be your friend. These rich people think they can buy anything." She took another drag from her cigarette. Sarah knew now that she had misjudged Cora. She was not as she had seemed then, some vapid American heiress, using the excuse of _an_ _English education_ to run wild with an ocean between herself and a domineering father. No, she was genuine, and kind, and actually rather clever. Sarah often found herself fascinated by how unexpectedly passionate Cora could become over some social issue or another. She once stopped their lesson abruptly to drag Sarah along with her to a soup kitchen for injured veterans. Sarah had feigned exasperation but she was truly captivated by Cora's enthusiasm.

The girl was certainly more clever than her idiot boyfriend, Flopbert, recognized. "_Idiot fiance_ now," Sarah corrected herself. This thought induced a curious tightening in her chest. The sensation annoyed her. Why should she trouble herself over the future happiness of a girl with more money than Sarah could make in three lifetimes, marrying a boy with more privilege and power than she could have in a hundred lifetimes, and neither of whom could possibly grasp what it was like working three jobs to pay her own way through law school for a career she may never even be allowed to practice? And would she have to start referring to Cora as "_my Lady"_ once they were hitched? The corners of her mouth tightened to a grimace but then eased. Cora was standing by the window now. She was beautiful. She wore a cerulean silk headband with an unnaturally white ostrich feather bobbing up from the side. She always seemed dressed for a party even when they were only doing revision. Sarah had no complaints. Her student was looking especially well tonight in a diaphanous blue frock; one with an almost scandalously short hem that showed off nearly her entire calf. If Thomas were outside with Sarah right now he would notice her blushing at the memory of being caught staring earlier in the evening. Against her will, she did care very much about Cora's happiness, and the alcohol was only making her feelings harder to mask. She turned her back to the window and kicked at a bit of gravel.

Cora sipped her second gin fizz and watched her tutor puffing smoke and kicking rocks down by the front stoop of her dormitory. She was glad O'Brien's back was to her; she would rather not be caught staring. The way Sarah looked tonight, she found it difficult not to stare. Of course, the hair was the same as always; short, as was the trend, a bit ridiculous but clearly intentional, with a mess of curls on top. The dark navy sweater vest over a white collared shirt was not new either. The particular neck tie was new but not unusual for Sarah, damson with an incongruously feminine floral print. No, from the waist up she could have been O'Brien on any day of the week. But before tonight Cora had never known Sarah O'Brien so bold as to wear trousers! They were really charcoal grey knickers rather than actual trousers, with black stockings, but that did not soften their effect on Cora. When Sarah had arrived for their tutoring lesson she felt her pulse quicken. She had no words. She thought to compliment O'Brien but then remembered her father's sentiments that one does not compliment employees on their attire so she stumbled through a greeting and showed off her own new ensemble.

To think of Sarah as an employee after all this time felt strange. Cora had had such difficulty adjusting to the culture here with all the stuffy English students who never seem to say quite what they mean and who seem perturbed by anyone who does. O'Brien was never like that. She always spoke in a refreshingly straightforward manner and seemed genuinely interested in whatever Cora had to say. Even Robert looked at Cora with a kind of condescending regard when she shared her ideas. Sarah never looked at her the way Robert did. Well actually, Cora thought she had caught Sarah looking at her in a way very similar to a certain way Robert sometimes did, a way that one does not typically expect to see from another girl. She liked that look. Cora took another sip of her gin fizz. She had procured the alcohol in hopes that it would help stay her rapid heart enough to concentrate on their studying. However, it only seemed to make her more at ease with staring at those scandalous trousers. She stepped back from the frosted windowpane as O'Brien snuffed out her cigarette on the bottom of her oxford and turned to come back inside.

Finally warm again, Sarah sat next to Cora at her bureau à gradin and resumed reading aloud from Yeats' essays on Blake. She soon felt the sensation of eyes boring into the side of her head. Cora obviously wasn't paying attention but Sarah was startled to look up and see an expression of such intense curiosity on the girl's face.

"What?"

Cora hesitated.

"You know, if you don't ask the question I can't answer it." She wondered how Cora could still fret over seeming silly to her.

"May I ask you something personal?"

Sarah nodded cautiously. She couldn't remember Cora ever asking her anything about herself.

"O'Brien, have you ever-" There was a long pause. Sarah made an expression encouraging her to finish.

"-have you ever-" "-been with a man?"

Sarah's eyes widened, "I- I-" she stammered, "What on earth?"

"Well I thought maybe you and Robert's tutor, Thomas? I know the two of you are close."

"What!" now she stifled a laugh, "Oh, no, not- no."

"You don't have to laugh at me," Cora sulked.

"I'm sorry, it's only, he's a first year and- well I don't think I'm his type anyway," she said, trying to soften her tone.

"So then, you haven't- been with-"

"I didn't say that. There was a bloke back home so, yeh…" Sarah didn't know why she lied. She could have said she simply didn't have time for that sort of thing, which was certainly true. Or she could have said the idea had never really appealed to her, which was also true. But college girls were different, they were supposed to be more experienced about the world. She couldn't imagine anything worse than appearing a naive country girl, especially to Cora Levinson. She knew she was blushing again but she hoped Cora would think it was an effect of the gin.

"Oh," Cora looked down at her hands, "Well, you know I'll be married soon, and I was just thinking about the wedding night, and I never have been- with-" she hesitated.

Sarah stiffened as the realization dawned on her that this conversation was about to lead somewhere very awkward. Oh why had she lied?

"- and well I was hoping maybe you could tell me how it-"

"... uh. It's- It's not really something you can explain to someone," Sarah tried to think fast, tapping her pen nervously on the desk, "You just- feel what to do," she guessed, "I couldn't tell you how. It will come natural to you I'm sure." She looked quickly down at her book feeling satisfied she'd pulled herself out of the mess she'd made and they could return to Yeats now.

"If you can't explain, then maybe...you could show me?"

Sarah dropped her pen. Her jaw hung open, brow raised, as she stared incredulously at Cora. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Only as much as you, and I'm taller," said the American, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly, "besides, you're already dressed like a boy, it wouldn't be much of a stretch."

Sarah thought maybe she should feel hurt but it wasn't meant as an insult and now Cora took her hand. Looking at her with those pleading baby blues that no one could resist, she said, "It would mean so much to me."

They considered each other for what felt like a full minute. Then Sarah finished off Cora's gin fizz and stood up. Still holding Cora's hand she lead her over near the bed. She could do this. She'd figured plenty of things out on her own before, and she was a loyal friend - and she was a bit drunk. Yes, she could do this. She stood in front of Cora. She didn't move.

Cora said finally, "Well I think he would start with kissing, I know that much."

"Right."

Sarah raised her heals and leaned in awkwardly. Cora's lips were soft and warm and tasted like gin but when she parted them and the kiss deepened Sarah felt a warmth rather different from the alcohol. It felt hotter and traveled further down. Unsure of what to do with her hands she placed them on Cora's waist. Cora's fingers caressed her cheeks and her neck as her tongue flicked the inside of Sarah's mouth. Sarah's heart was already pounding when Cora stopped to whisper, "I think he would want to take off my clothes." Sarah felt wet between her legs. She had helped Cora button and unbutton her dresses a hundred times before but now her hands were shaking and the kissing and what it was doing to her was so distracting. After a bit more effort than usual they both paused to watch the blue chiffon slink to the floor.

Feeling more bold Sarah said, "I think he would-" she swallowed, "with his hand-" her own hand hovered hesitantly over Cora's left breast. Cora took it and pressed it to her. They kissed again, she bit lightly at Sarah's lip and running her fingers through her hair she lead her disconcerted tutor over onto the bed. Sarah deftly unclipped Cora's suspenders and removed her stockings. Then Cora pulled her by the jumper until Sarah was on top of her, kissing her neck and thumbing her bare nipple. Sarah didn't know how she'd gotten herself into this. She hadn't the slightest clue what a man might want to do with his wife on their wedding night. She only knew what she wanted to do right now and she still wasn't sure if Cora would- Then Cora thrust her hips up against Sarah's and she gasped against Cora's neck. Spurred on, she squeezed Cora's breast trailing her fingers down her stomach, past her navel, down…

A hand clenched her wrist and Cora pulled away from her kiss, "Wait!"

Sarah froze.

"Shouldn't- shouldn't I take off _his_ clothes as well?"

Sarah nodded and tore her wool vest over her head, not caring that her curls would frizz. Cora pulled at the necktie as Sarah worked the shirt buttons, while continuing to kiss _her lady's_ lips, her neck, her collarbone. This must be right, it certainly felt right. When the shirt was off, Cora unexpectedly pushed Sarah over onto her back and began yanking off the grey plus-fours and stockings.

Cora wasn't sure why she had lied. It was true that she had never been with Robert, he was a frustratingly traditional gentleman, but there had been Gerald back in New York and James before that. Something had come over her tonight. She had always had her suspicions about ever-enigmatic O'Brien but the trousers seemed the final damning evidence. She did not believe for a second there was "a bloke back home." Her troublesome feelings toward her private tutor had been brewing for some time but it was tonight's combination of alcohol and a new confidence that she would not be rebuffed which made Cora bold. She pressed herself against Sarah and kissed. Their naked hips fit well together. Remembering her role, she asked "Is it okay if I'm on top like this? Do you think he would mind?"

Sarah gripped Cora's lower back and bottom when she thrust, "I- God- I don't know," she answered honestly, the words coming out in ragged breaths against Cora's collarbone. Sarah trembled beneath her and Cora felt herself trembling too. It had never been like this with the others.

"And maybe I could...?" she reached down and pressed one finger into the warm wet place between Sarah's legs. Sarah sighed, "yes," quietly against Cora's lips. She added another finger, then another. As Sarah bucked her hips with the rhythm of Cora's hand, Cora felt herself hot and wet against Sarah's thigh. She heard herself begin saying Sarah's name over and over. Finally, her tutor gave one last moaning gasp and shuddered beneath her. The shudder seemed to rack Sarah's entire body and pass right up through Cora, causing her to cry out.

Sarah gazed up at the ceiling, still breathing heavily. She felt completely numb below the waist. Turning her head she kissed Cora once more on the cheek and Cora laid her head on Sarah's chest. Yeats and Blake were forgotten. They slept entwined like that through the night. In the morning, Sarah woke to Cora gently shaking her shoulder and warning that her roommate could be back at any moment. She jumped out of bed frantically searching the floor for her scattered articles of clothing. They were silent while she dressed. Cora sat on her bed wrapped in nothing but a bed sheet. Tresses of her dark hair had fallen away from their pins in spiraling curls about her bare shoulders. Sarah regretted not having a cap to cover her own cowlicked and tussled locks. Absently running a hand through her fringe she wondered if what happened the previous night would ever happen again. She wondered if Cora regretted it in the sober light of day. Pulling on her wool vest she wonder if they would never discuss it and pretend it never happened at all. This last notion brought that tightness in her chest again. Fully dressed, she said "well-", _as in "well, I'll be off,"_ but she didn't finish. She studied the floorboards waiting for Cora to speak.

"Merry Christmas" Cora finally said with a tight smile.

Sarah couldn't leave it like that, unacknowledged. "So...I suppose you're feeling confident about your wedding night now?"

The tension seemed to melt from Cora's face. She raised an eyebrow, "Well, you know, practice makes perfect." She smiled mischievously.

The corner of Sarah's mouth curled into a smirk. She bent down, kissed Cora on the forehead, and said, "Happy Christmas." Then she left the dorm and walked home in the freshly fallen snow.


End file.
